The car, to both Kiyo’s and Conall’s surprise, was still there when they left the building with Niamh. She’d cleaned up the apartment and discarded Meghan’s body as she had the man at the airport in Moscow.
Kiyo didn’t know how to react to what had happened. For now, he was focused on getting the hell out of Paris.
They drove to the airport in silence. Niamh huddled in the back of the car and quickly fell asleep as Conall drove northwest.
“You did the right thing,” Conall said, his voice low so as not to wake her.
“What?”
“Telling her the truth about your immortality.”
Kiyo wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure about anything at the moment.
“It’s a story I’d be interested in hearing one day.”
Kiyo smirked. It wasn’t a story he was interested in telling.
Conall seemed to understand his silence and didn’t take offense. “So, where to now?”
“I need to call Bran. Let him and Fionn know I have Niamh. They’ll probably organize safe passage to wherever we need to go next.”
“You’re following her visions?”
“Yeah. But they seem to be all over the place. It doesn’t make sense. Some are about what they’ve always been about—the other fae-borne and protecting the gate. It seems that since her brother died, the visions have gotten interrupted by others that have led her on this vigilante path. It doesn’t make sense to me.”
Conall frowned. “No, it doesnae sound right.” He glanced in his rearview at Niamh. Kiyo turned to follow the male’s gaze, his chest tightening at the sight of her asleep. Exhausted. It took a lot to bring her down. She was wrecked inside.
The job of protecting her, not from others but from herself, felt impossible.
It frustrated him beyond bearing.
And he didn’t understand the intensity of the feeling.
“You can do this,” Conall said.
Kiyo frowned.
The alpha flicked him a look before turning back to the road. “You know this is bigger than just protecting one fae woman.”
Unfortunately, yes.
“But you can do it, Kiyo. Keep her trust, help her. No matter what you have to sacrifice to do it.”
Conall’s words brought silence to the car as Kiyo pondered exactly what they might mean … and dreaded the possibilities.
Thankfully, it wasn’t a long drive. After waking Niamh, they dropped off the rental and made their way to departures. Conall bought his ticket to Edinburgh, where he’d get a connecting flight to Inverness.
“You call again if you need me,” the alpha said, holding out his hand to Kiyo.
Kiyo shook it and found himself saying, “I admired and respected Caelan and Lennox very much. I was sorry to hear of their passing.”
Emotion flickered across Conall’s face before he cleared it and gave Kiyo a slight nod of thanks.
Kiyo gripped Conall’s hand tighter. “You honor their memory, Alpha MacLennan.”
Conall’s gray eyes turned piercing and he shook Kiyo’s hand with a firm fierceness. “Stay safe, Kiyo.”
They turned from one another, Conall’s eyes alighting on Niamh as she stepped toward him.
“Thank you again.” She held out a hand.
He took it, covering hers with both of his and he smiled. “No. Thank you.”
Kiyo assumed he referred to Niamh’s vision of the bright future he and his mate had ahead of them.
“Give Thea my love,” Niamh offered.
“I will. And you have hers. You have our loyalty, Niamh. You know where to find us if ever you need us.”
Watching as Niamh fought tears of gratitude, Kiyo felt frustrated. She had no one now. No family. And she wasn’t like him. She wasn’t built to survive without someone to love. Days ago, he would have sneered at her for the weakness.
Now he felt powerless in the face of her loneliness.
They watched Conall stride through the airport, drawing stares from almost everyone who passed him. He disappeared up the escalators toward security, and Kiyo turned to Niamh.
“We should call Bran.”
“Who were Caelan and Lennox?” she replied instead.
Still uncomfortable with Niamh knowing about his curse, he hesitated before replying. “Conall’s father and grandfather. I knew them before Conall was born.”
To his gratitude, she left it at that.
“Call Bran.” She sighed heavily, crossing her arms over her chest. “Our only lead is Tokyo. So let’s go there. As safely as we can.”
Kiyo nodded, glad to have a plan and to get her the hell out of Paris. Although she was acting calm and collected, there was a strain around her eyes and the color hadn’t returned to her cheeks. The problem was definitely Niamh’s guilt over her brother’s death. With that hanging over her head, she was a ticking time bomb, and Kiyo wasn’t sure how to broach the subject or if he even should.
Leaving his concerns behind for the moment, Kiyo contacted Bran and got him up to speed. Minutes later, Bran had checked the security tapes in the airport and cross-checked all passengers logged on flights in and out of Paris in the next few hours with the names of members of the Blackwood Coven and The Garm. No names came up. They seemed to be safe, so Bran booked them on a flight to Tokyo using the false passport information he’d given them back in Sweden.
Kiyo had wandered off a bit to talk to Bran. When he hung up, he collected his and Niamh’s tickets from a self-service machine and turned to find her. Niamh leaned against the wall near the entrance doors, her eyes closed. She appeared suddenly very young and lost.
He knew what it was like to lose the one person who kept you anchored. Home wasn’t a house or a building somewhere. Home was a person. Kiyo knew that better than anyone. Ronan had been Niamh’s home, and without him … Tamashii ga nuketa. She was a lost soul.
Striding toward her, his eyes fixed on her, his pulse leapt when she opened her eyes to meet his gaze. Ignoring the sensation, he slowed to a stop before her and held up the ticket with a wry smirk. “Bran booked us first-class tickets to Tokyo.” It had been awhile since Kiyo had traveled first class anywhere. It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford it; he’d just already been through what he considered the extravagant, indulgent phase of his life in the ’80s. He grew bored with it quickly. It wasn’t him.
“That was nice of him.” She took the proffered ticket. “Did he say anything else?”
“Just that we seem to be safe.” He explained Bran’s security checks. “Our flight leaves soon but we have time to eat. Why don’t we head to the first-class lounge and get something there?”
Niamh nodded docilely and fell into step beside him. He kept looking at her out of the corner of his eyes, worry niggling at him.
She frowned at her feet. “Why did it take you so long to come to the apartment?”
He frowned in return. “Considering the situation, I think Conall and I got there pretty fast.”
“But weren’t you following me in Sèvres? When I was following Meghan?”
Kiyo drew to a halt. “No, I wasn’t.”
Niamh stopped with him.
“You were followed?”
She searched his face, his worry reflected in her eyes. “I can’t say for sure. But I’m rarely wrong. I felt like I was being followed. I was so focused on the witch and I didn’t feel any danger, so I just ignored it. Then when you and Conall showed, I just assumed it had been you following me.”
“You didn’t feel any danger?”
“None.”
Shit. Kiyo did not like mysterious subplots. He glanced around them, searching the crowds for anything out of the ordinary. “You sense anything now?”
“Not at the moment.”
“Okay. We keep moving.” His expression hardened. “But you tell me if you feel anything like that again. If you feel anything out of the ordinary, I want to know.” His head dipped toward her. “You have to trust me, Niamh.”
Her eyelashes fluttered at his closeness. “I know. I’m going to try.”
Although more than a little annoyed that she needed to try considering he’d thrown himself in front of a damn dagger for her, Kiyo merely grunted and continued toward the small security lounge for first-class travelers.
They moved through it quickly. Kiyo had already abandoned his katana in Conall’s Defender back in Inverness so he could board the flight to London. Niamh’s backpack held only a small amount of cash and her clothes.
Afterward, as they followed signs for the first-class lounge, Kiyo spotted the bookstore and stopped so fast, Niamh collided into him. He felt the brush of her breasts against his biceps just before she pulled back. “What is it?”
He gestured toward the store. “Give me a minute?”
She nodded and followed him inside.
As he perused the English language fiction bestseller list, he spotted the new Stephen King and grabbed a copy without reading the blurb. He moved toward the checkout counter.
“Wait … you’re buying a book to read on the plane?” Niamh asked incredulously.
Kiyo scowled at her over his shoulder. “And?”
“You read?”
“Yeah. I’ve also been known to use my opposable thumbs.”
She chuckled. His lips twitched at the sound, but he had his back to her so she couldn’t see.
“I just never took you for a reader.” She sidled up beside him as he stepped to the counter to pay for the book.
“You don’t really know me,” he muttered.
She slipped a book up onto the counter. It was a copy of Schindler’s Ark by Thomas Keneally. Kiyo had already read that one. He quirked a brow at her. Niamh shrugged, smiling at him. “I’ve never read it and I like books about history.”
He turned to the checkout assistant, ignoring the hint of curiosity in Niamh’s tone when she stressed the word history. “That one too.”
“Thanks.”
He flicked Niamh a wary look. “No problem.”
For a few seconds Kiyo thought she wasn’t going to push it. But as they walked out of the bookstore with books in hand, Niamh shocked the absolute shit out of him.
So how does a werewolf become an immortal?
At the sound of her voice, clear as day in his head, an invasion and not a thought, he staggered to a stop and gaped at her.
She gave him a sheepish smile. Yeah, I can talk to you like this.
Grabbing her by the arm, he led her across the airport in quick, long strides until they neared a set of double doors reserved for airport staff only. Kiyo pushed Niamh into the corner, dropping his bag at their feet, so he could cage her in with his arms braced on the wall at either side of her head.
Her cheeks flushed as he glared at her.
“What the hell?” he bit out, not sure how to feel about this latest development.
“Do you want me to keep talking telepathically or is it freaking you out?” Before he could answer, she put her hands lightly on his chest as if in a calming gesture. He looked down at them, wanting to push her off. He didn’t want her feeling how hard his heart was racing right now. Her soft words stopped him. “It’s useful. When … Ronan and I were on the run, being able to talk to him like that was useful.”
Kiyo frowned, considering that. “Can you hear me if I did the same?”
She shook her head. “No, it doesn’t work like that. But it’s still useful.” She dropped her hands, as if touching him burned. Niamh shrugged and he caught the uncertainty in her expression before she looked away over his shoulder. “I just … I thought maybe it was time I trusted you with it. It might come in handy.”
There was something brittle about her now. As if she half expected him to judge her for it.
“You just surprised me.” He pushed away from her. “I can see how it could be useful.”
He watched the hard uncertainty melt from her face. Her expression softened, her lips quirking at the corner and drawing his attention.
He looked at her mouth for a few seconds too long. When their eyes met again, Kiyo’s whole body bristled with hot tension.
An aching silence stretched between them, and Kiyo didn’t know how to break it. He was afraid if he moved or opened his mouth, he’d lose hold of the self-control he prided himself on.
The decision was taken out of his hands when Niamh’s eyes widened with shock. “No,” she whispered, tears of frustration filling them. “Not again. Kiyo—vision.” She bit it out just in time.
With his fast reflexes, he gripped her head just as it jerked back on her neck. If he hadn’t caught her, she would’ve slammed it into the wall with force. Gut churning, Kiyo encircled her and tried to contain her as she convulsed and shuddered in his arms.
He hated this.
He absolutely hated seeing her like this.
And these visions … there seemed to be a lot of them. Too many.
Hoping no one was paying them any attention, Kiyo muttered soothing words in Niamh’s ear until her body finally grew still. He held her a few seconds longer, and she didn’t make a move to retreat.
Finally, he eased away from her.
Her cheeks were pale again, her expression wounded and frazzled.
“They’re happening too often,” Kiyo observed.
She nodded wearily. “I started to get more after Ronan … but these past few weeks. When Ronan was alive, I used to only get a vision every few months, sometimes only once or twice a year.”
“What does it mean?”
“I don’t know.” Concern strained her beautiful face. “I don’t know.”
“What was the vision this time?”
She stiffened beneath his touch, drawing Kiyo’s attention to the fact that he still held her. He released her quickly but blocked her path so she couldn’t walk away from him.
“Well?”
Niamh stared him directly in the eyes. “There’s a child abuser here. At the airport.”
Frustration filled him. “No.”
“No?”
“Did we not just have this conversation back at the apartment?”
Looking away from him, Niamh sighed. “We did.”
“But?”
“It’s hard not to do anything about it.”
“But you have to. Niamh, what did I say about the darkness?”
Her eyes flew to his, guilt filling them. “I know. I know you’re right. But I can do something about evil people like that … and why do I keep getting the visions if I’m not supposed to do something about it?”
He didn’t know how to answer that. Instead he focused on appealing to her common sense. “Every time you veer off the right path, you put yourself in jeopardy. You put the gate in jeopardy. As hard as it is to walk away from these visions, you need to. For the greater good.”
“Do you really believe in the greater good?”
Surprised by the question, Kiyo took a step back. “I have to.”
“Have to?”
“If I don’t … then what the hell is the point of anything?”
She nodded, understanding. “I want to ignore these visions but I’m afraid of the guilt if I do.”
Yeah. Kiyo bet she was. She was carrying enough of that shit around. “Niamh.”
She seemed to shiver at the sound of her name on his lips, and Kiyo’s body tightened in reaction.
“You don’t understand.”
“Make me understand.” His tone was harsher than he meant.
“This one’s personal.”
“You know this child abuser?” His gut twisted at the thought.
“No.” She shook her head. “But … the first person I ever killed was one.”
His pulse raced at the implications. “Niamh,” he whispered her name, sorrow and anger beginning to fill him.
“No,” she reassured, pressing her hands to his chest again. “I got away. I was twelve. He was my foster mother’s boyfriend. I …” She broke off, and then her voice was in his head. I killed him. Accidentally. Just turned him to ash. Ronan found us and we ran. We’ve been running ever since. We had been running ever since … As her voice trailed off, she dropped her hands from his chest again and stepped back, her gaze pleading.
Kiyo thought of that sick bastard touching Niamh as a child, and he could find no sympathy or horror for the guy. Everything he felt was for Niamh. Everything he felt … was too much.
“I get it,” he bit out. “But no, Niamh. This has to stop. Every time you answer a vision … I think you lose yourself a little more.”
Tears glittered in her eyes. “I know you’re right.”
“Come on,” he said, his voice gruff as he grabbed his duffle bag with one hand and took hold of her elbow with the other. “Don’t think about it. One foot in front of the other. We’ll go to the lounge, we’ll eat, and then we’ll board that plane.”
Kiyo wasn’t fooled by her sudden docility. He didn’t know if it was weariness, confusion, or agreement that caused her to keep up with him, he just knew he wasn’t letting his guard down. Any second now, he expected her to try to slip away from him and go after whoever it was she had seen in her vision.
When she suddenly stumbled to a stop, his grip on her tightened. “Niamh,” he warned.
She shook her head, pulling at his grip as her eyes darted around them. Searching. “It’s not that,” she promised. “I feel it again.”
“Feel what?”
Uncertainty filled her gaze. “Someone’s following me.”